KP – The Light at the End: Part 52


Ron was almost completely certain he hadn't gotten any sleep since both women had left him alone in the apartment. Every so often he would open up his eyes and stare at the digital clock on the old student desk beside the window. The hours kept creeping by, his mind trapped in the feeling that he really should be getting some serious rest, but he was unable to.

It wasn't that he was particularly worried about what Kim and her Mom were going to find. Sherry hadn't been a problem in a long time, and deep down he knew that Kim wouldn't take her mother along if she felt the same way. He weakly raised an eyebrow when she insisted she wear a super-suit, but he quickly fell back on his previous assessment.

Unable to relax enough to truly rest, Ron sat up in the bed, grabbing Kim's pillows to make his stack a little higher. He scanned the room until his eyes came to rest on the television remote, his shoulders sagging into the pile of down cushions when he realized it was on the desk beside the clock. That meant getting up out of the bed to get something that should have at least been on Kim's nightstand.

He wasn't able to stay in that position long before he was wracked with coughing once again as the congestion started sliding down his throat. Glancing at his own nightstand, he realized the water glass Mom P had brought him was empty, and had been since just after the two of them had left.

Ron hated feeling the way he did. It was warm outside, but cool in the room, yet, every time he pulled the covers up over his slender frame, he felt like he was overheating from the fever. Then there was the congestion. When he rolled to one side, the fluid in his sinuses would flow that way, blocking that side of his nose. Rolling onto his other side only relieved it for a moment as the thick, uncomfortable goo obeyed the laws of gravity. Sitting up just seemed to make it clog up both sides, making him breath through his mouth, aggravating his already sore throat.

Shaking his head, he realized that he really wasn't going to be able to stay in bed. Not only would he have to get up to turn on the television, his body was telling him things that needed attention as well, further decreasing the possibility that he could actually relax.

Even as slowly as he got up, he was reminded once again just how Kim felt when she 'got up too fast' with a cold. His inner ears were just as clogged up as his nose and his muscles just didn't want to respond. Still, he wasn't about to take care of business right there in the bedroom, no matter how badly he felt, so he forced one foot in front of the other and made his way into the bathroom.

He stared at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. There were dark circles under his eyes, which themselves were completely bloodshot, he desperately needed a shave and he could swear he was very slightly green. His cowlick was in high-gear as well, with more of his usually shaggy hair sticking up from the crown. It was bad enough he considered actually getting out his yarmulke to wear around the house, instead of just on Saturday morning. That would have been a sight, he pondered, him wearing a tank-top and boxers with a skull-cap.

Drying his hands off, he went to the kitchen and pulled a few items out the cabinet and fridge. The first made Kim's eyes bulge out of her head when he pulled it from the bag. He chuckled slightly to himself that people would actually say they possessed bottle of Kentucky Bourbon for medicinal purposes, since that was precisely what he was about to do with it. In truth, he had only purchased it for a recipe, though he poured each of them a shot, just to satisfy their curiosity.

The look on both their faces when they downed their shots pretty much made it clear the bottle was going to be in Ron's spice cabinet for a long-long time.

More on instinct than any real knowledge about how to make the ancient cough medicine, he combined some tupelo honey, fresh squeezed lemon juice and the dark liquor in the bottom of a glass. Bracing himself, he drank the mixture, holding it in the back of his mouth for a moment before swallowing it down.

He wasn't quite sure what was worse, that concoction, or the cough medicine he could buy at the drug store. What his was distinctly sure of was that he didn't want to cough at that moment, fearing he would spew fire in all directions just like if he had downed a whole packet of Five-Alarm Diablo sauce.

"Rufus." He rasped. "I do not recommend that."

He stuck his pink little head in the top of the glass and took a whiff, making his own face before disappearing.

"You could have warned me before I drank that. Ew, that was nasty…almost as nasty as…no, I don't think anything can be as nasty as Duff's Haggis, but that was close."

There was no telling if it was the medicinal properties of his creation, of just the adrenaline surge from the fiery liquor, but he did actually feel a little better. Idly scratching himself, he made his way back into the bedroom. Grabbing the remote, he sat down on the edge of the bed and started flipping channels, finally settling on a story about cheese-making on the Knowing Channel.

The mere mention of the 'C' word brought Rufus right back to him, or at least nearby on the bed. It wasn't clear if human germs could affect him, but he wasn't about to take that chance.

At least he wasn't wearing a hospital mask.

Scooting back in the bed, Ron leaned on the stack of pillows. He's seen the program before, but he always liked watching one of his favorite foods being made. There was also the added benefit of not being able to smell the stuff being produced. One trip to an actual cheese factory had almost turned him off to it completely. That memory caused a little smile, since Kim had come along with him on the trip with his classmates and she managed to turn as green as her old, faded tank top.

Still unable to relax, he leaned over and opened his nightstand. His black yarmulke was sitting on top of a satin box. It was rather plain and old, but it was the same one he had worn for his Bar Mitzvah some eight years earlier, and since he only wore it to Temple, it was still in reasonably good shape.

Carefully setting it aside, he opened the thin box, first pulling a small note from the soft, satin interior.

Ronnie:

I know how attached you are to that old yarmulke of yours, but I'd like to ask you to wear this one for your wedding. It belonged to your Granddad and it's the one he wore for our wedding. If you'd do that, I'd be so honored.

Gram R.

Reverently, he folded the note and tucked it back into its place before taking the white skull-cap out, gingerly unfolding the sequined silk in his hands. He so wanted to put it on right then and there, not so much to wear it, but because of what it represented. Yes, he had finally gone with his father to old man Horowitz and gotten started on his Tuxedo, but the cap was closer to his equivalent to Kim's wedding dress than the black, high-fashion suit would be. The more so because it had been handed down by his Grandmother Rokowski. She hadn't even done that for his father when he got married, though that wasn't surprising since she'd always very mildly disapproved of Gene Stoppable.

He sat there wishing it was already July, instead of May. Then Kim could put on her dress, and he could see it. Somehow it didn't seem fair that he couldn't see the dress until their wedding day and Kim had seen the yarmulke the moment he opened the parcel. Still, that was pretty much the way things worked.

Momentarily forgetting his condition, he went to the large, oval dressing mirror on Kim's side of the room and slipped the cap onto his head. Frowning, he took it off and slicked his hair down as best he could before replacing it. He stood there for a moment, imagining himself in the tux, a white ruffled shirt poking through the front, a white cummerbund, specially made to match his yarmulke around his waist.

Rufus squeaked the wedding march from his perch at the end of the bed.

"Yeah, little buddy, I can't wait either. If you ask me, we should have gone through with this a long time ago, instead of waiting for this summer."

The little mole rat glared at him for a moment, then glanced at the unmade bed, then back at his human.

"Oh, not you too. Just because we live together and we…you know, that doesn't mean I'm not looking forward to actually being Mr Kimberly Anne Possible."

Rufus just rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the television, where they were showing how Roquefort cheese was made. To him, all that mattered was that the two people he loved most in the world had finally become mates. Silly ceremonies in outlandish clothing meant nothing to him.

"Well, not so much that. Kim will be Kim Stoppable, though. I can't believe it, in less than two months we're actually going to be married. It seems like it was just five minutes ago we were dancing at the Junior Prom, yet it seems like it's been forever too."

"Hey." Rufus squeaked, shooting his human a dirty look.

"Okay, that didn't come out right. It just seems like Kim and Me, like…we've always been, you know, together. I almost can't remember what it was like when we were 'just friends.' Though I do remember all that stuff about Josh."

Rufus made gagging motions before squeaking "Mankey, pew."

"Ah, come on, Josh isn't such a bad guy. He's marrying Tara after all. Now there's a couple who belong together. Hmmm, maybe if I'd steered him toward Tara a little earlier, maybe Kim would have noticed me sooner."

"Hrk, nope." Rufus responded, picking up the remote to change the station since the cheese show was over.

"Oh, who am I kidding. If we'd gotten together sooner one of us, probably me, would have screwed it all up."

His heart jumped slightly as the front door unlocked. Jumping back toward the bed, he quickly folded the yarmulke back up, replacing it in his drawer before hastily scooting back in the bed.

"You're supposed to be resting." Kim scolded as she crossed the room to their closet, two super-suits draped across her arm. It took him a moment to realize that she was wearing a completely new outfit.

Kim and her Mom had gone shopping.

"That must have been some mission." He commented, sitting up slightly. He burped just a little, causing his throat to burn with the taste of his homemade cough syrup once more.

"Ugh, don't remind me. I still can't believe Sherry could do something so horrible."

Ron arched an eyebrow. "I thought she'd given up on the 'life of crime' thing."

"Tell that to the fashion police." Kim growled, hanging up the two suits and closing the vault door.

"Kim, Kim, Kim, there's no such thing as the fashion police. That's just an old joke."

"Oh, really? Then who was it that almost arrested Coco Banana for last year's winter collection? Anyway, even if there weren't, Shego has gone too far this time."

"You're still not telling me what she did, KP. You make it sound like she came at you in her old jumpsuit with the sleeves ripped off or something."

Kim groaned. "It's worse than that. It's…hard to describe. It was just so awful. I think Mom almost fainted herself."

"Gah!" Ron clutched both sides of his face. "Just tell me what she did, KP!"

She shot him a look for a moment, then disappeared back into the living room, returning with a horror on a hanger.

"This." She threw the dress down onto the bed, across Ron's legs.

"Hey, it's a dress…I think. What's the big, KP?"

"Ron, take a look at it. That…thing makes all that junk Nana keeps sending me look like something out of a Paris fashion show."

He held it up to the light. It was pale green, more lime than mint, with silver panels that mimicked the pattern of Shego's old Team Go uniform.

"Wait a minute. I thought you were going to find out what she meant by your worst nightmare, and she gave you a dress?"

Kim grabbed it and headed for the closet, hanging it all the way in the back, pulling the clothes beside it out slightly to hide it. "That thing is a nightmare, Ron. That has got to be the single ugliest bridesmaid dress I have ever seen in my life."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there, KP. Monique is designing your bridesmaid dresses. If Sherry wants to play some kind of sick joke on you with that, you don't have to make them wear it."

"It's worse than that, Ronnie. I've got to wear it." She moaned, picking up Rufus so she could sit down on the end of the bed. He curled up contentedly in her arms and promptly fell asleep.

"Uh…" Ron scratched his head for a moment. "Why would you wear that to our wedding?"

She leaned over the bed and very lightly rapped on his skull with her knuckles. "Hello, Mr. Nothing But Air Beneath the Hair. I've got to wear it because I'm going to be a bridesmaid. Actually, I'm supposed to be the Maid-of-Honor."

That served to confuse him even more. "Not…quite…getting."

"Oy. Ron, Sherry is the one getting married…in two weeks. She asked me to be her MoH."

"Coolio, so Blue Boy finally popped the question." He brightened up slightly as the concept of a second wedding slowly seeped into his brain.

"Yeah, seems he proposed some time back but… wait…How did you know she was marrying Drakken? I thought she was seeing somebody else."

"Oh, come on, KP, it was obvious."

"Obvious, what was? You mean you actually knew they've been…" She shuddered slightly, remembering lots of TMI facts her one-time nemesis had given her as they discussed the details of her impending nuptials.

"Duh. Look at the way he looks at her. You remember how he acted when Ammie was born."

Kim shook her head. "No, not exactly. I was busy getting my hand crushed by hers while she was in labor."

"Look, they live together…Drakken's practically Ammie's father. Personally, I think it's great!"

"Ugh." Kim leaned back on the bed, letting her fingers drag lightly over his hand. "This is so ferociously weird. Who would have thought I'd be the MoH was Shego's and Drakken's wedding?"

"Weirder things have happened, KP. Look at us."

"Ronnie, there's weird, then there's wrong on all levels."

"Kim, there's nothing wrong with it. Sure, they used to be super-freak villains and tried taking over the world, but they deserve to be happy together. Just like us." He turned his hand over, twining his fingers with hers.

She turned onto her side, facing him. "So you think we deserve to be happy together?" She smiled softly at him, tracing the edge of his ear with her free hand.

"S'ha. Uh, KP, what are you doing?"

Looking at him with slightly hooded eyes, she leaned closer, whispering. "Oh, just wondering if you're feeling any better than you were earlier."

"Yeah, a little, but I don't think…uh…I mean, I still can't breath through my nose, and I could still be contagious."

"I've already had it, and why is breathing through your nose so important?"

He turned his head halfway toward her, arching an eyebrow. "Cause I can't kiss you if I can't breath."

"What if I kissed you here?" She leaned over, planting a light kiss on the same ear she had just been stroking.

"Okay, that works."

"Or here." Pulling herself even closer, she kissed his neck, just above the strap of his tank top.

"Yeah, still breathing."

"Or here…"

Ron crossed his eyes, briefly catching a glimpse of Rufus scampering out the bedroom door. "Oh man."

It turned out he didn't have to do any kissing at all, though by the time they fell asleep in each other's arms, he was indeed feeling far better than he had all day.


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